Im going to fight for that boat! cried Harvey, angrily. Ill die for it, but they shant get it away from me.
Of course well fight for it if we need to, said Henry Burns, calmly. We will all stand by you, eh, fellows?
Yes, sir, exclaimed Tom and Bob together, feeling of their muscles, developed by canoeing and gymnastics.
The crew also assented, less warmly. They had had their taste of it already.
All the same, said Henry Burns, it would be a huge joke on them, after they have gone to work and patched her up and floated her for us, to sail in and tow her out without their knowing it. Just imagine them waking up in the morning and finding the boat and the crew both gone.
Yes, and well catch it for that, too, I suppose, groaned George Baker.
No, well stand by you, said Henry Burns. And he added, Lets try the easiest way first, Jack. Well run in as quietly as we can, come up alongside the Surprise and take her in tow. If they wake, well stand by you and fight for the boat. But I think we may get away with her. Theyre bound to be sound sleepers.
Carefully stowing away every pail or oar or stick that could be in the way at the wrong time and make a noise, the yachtsmen brought the Viking close in upon the dismasted Surprise . Then, as Harvey made a wide sweep to bring the Viking about into the wind, Henry Burns and Tom Harris dropped astern in the dory and picked up the line with which the Surprise had been moored. They were ready for Harvey when he had come about. Throwing the line aboard as the Viking rounded to, close in, they rowed quickly alongside and sprang over the rail. The line had been caught by Bob, who made it fast astern.
The Viking had not even lost headway, so skilfully had the manœuvre been carried out. Standing away on the starboard tack, the Vikings sails filled and the line brought up. The wind was fairly fresh and the weight of the unballasted Surprise did not stop the Viking . The Surprise , its long, lonely stay down in the Thoroughfare ended, had at last begun its homeward journey toward Southport.
I dont see but what your friends on the Seagull did us a good turn in trying to rob you of the Surprise , said Henry Burns, smiling. They seem to have made the old boat pretty fairly tight. Theyve saved us time.
Oh, yes, we owe em something for that, exclaimed Little Tim, feeling around for a sore spot, but I hope they dont try to collect any more of the debt from me.
Tim, you were a brick to do what you did! cried Harvey. And the rest of you, too. You had the real pluck. But Tim suggested it, and hes first mate of the Surprise after this, and next to Skipper Joe. Thats fair, isnt it?
George Baker and Allan Harding agreed.
What do you think, asked Harvey, as they sailed on up the bay, will they keep up the fight for the boat? Will the squire take it to court, or will they quit, now they find themselves outwitted?
Theyll give it up, said Henry Burns. They would have tried to lie it through if they could have got the boat away from here. But now that we have it, they will look at it differently. Theyll find, when they get back to the village, too, that the Warren boys were down here, and that will settle it. Henry Burns was right.
John Hart and his comrades, astounded, on awakening, to find the Surprise nowhere to be seen, had jumped to the conclusion that the crew had stolen down and cut her loose.
Well take it out of them! he had cried, fiercely; and, followed by his no less irate comrades, had dashed up to the old cabin. Another disappointment. And still another, when they had searched all the shores of the Thoroughfare and examined its waters, and realized that the boat was gone.
Well, well get it yet, if they have carried it off, young Brackett ventured to suggest.
Well do nothing of the kind, cried John Hart, angrily. You idiot! Cant you see were beaten? Some one has been down in the night and helped them. That must have been true, what they said about the other chaps. The best thing we can do is to keep quiet about what we have done, or well have the whole town laughing at us for working on their boat.
Young
Harry Brackett looked pained.
CHAPTER IX. HARRY BRACKETT PLAYS A JOKE
This town hall, bare and uninviting in appearance for the most of its existence, brightened up smartly on these fortnightly occasions, putting on usually some vestments of running pine and other festoons of trailing vines, and adorned with wild flowers in their season.
A glittering array of lamps, some loaned for the occasion, made the hall brilliant; while a smooth birch floor, polished and waxed as shining as any man-owarsmans deck, reflected the illumination and offered an inviting surface for dancing.
Overhead, on the floor above, it was often customary to serve a baked bean supper before the dancing, with its inevitable accompaniment of pie of many varieties.
Everybody took part in the dances, from Benny Jones, who had one wooden leg, but who could hop through the Boston Fancy with amazing nimbleness, to old Billy Cook, who arrayed his feet, usually bare, in a pair of heavy boots that reached to his knees, and in which he clattered about the hall with a noise like a flock of sheep. Even the squire consented to unbend from his dignity on some of these occasions, stalking through a few dances stiffly, as a man carved out of wood.